


The Life The Blog The Murder Mystery

by Pandaabeer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous Relationships, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, No Werewolves, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-21 03:58:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandaabeer/pseuds/Pandaabeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something weird going on in town. And Stiles is going to find out just what it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the blog.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello welcome! For Camp Nano this year, I'm going to edit my novel from last years nano. I'm going to attempt to post a chapter at least once a week until it's done! This is definitely a darker type of story then my usual. I was seriously trying to come out of my shell.

_"June 8th 2012"_

_-Last day of school finally. One more year before I'm out of there for good. A few more months until I can officially leave this hell hole. It still baffles me how it has taken me this long to get this close to passing. I had been an above average student before the accident and I was still one now. If I didn't need to do so many tests with such stupid scheduling I'd have been done forever ago._

_At least Lydia is doing it with me. It doesn't feel so bad now that we're friends, to have someone to study with even though she always kicks my ass when it comes to math. It wasn't my strong point while she was a virtual genius._

_My living arrangement kind of sucks. I've been here for just over two years now, and while you guys aren't completely up to date on what's happened to me really. It's like I'm some kind of pet. Need amusement? Let's bother Stiles. Need something done, Stiles will do it._

_It was the same at school before I left to finish it remotely. My old school hopefully would've forgotten about me by now. I had stayed there for a few months after the accident hoping everything would calm down, it didn't. It probably didn't help that our town was so small everyone knew what happened, or at least heard about it.  I never understood how people can be so cold hearted. So judgemental vindictive and cruel. I get cruelness, I get what people deem good and evil, but to hurt someone for the sake of it with no reason other than you can… I just there had to be something else, it didn't make any sense._

_Sorry there I go again, contemplating the fucking mind of the self centered no good assholes. Excuse my language readers but if you can't see where I'm coming from, you're probably guilty of being one._

_Speaking of readers, who are you guys, why the fuck do you read this, and follow me? Is the inane drabble I write worth your time? You realize I'm only here because if I say anything out loud I'll probably be put away and my psychologist suggested I do something to write down my thoughts. He probably didn't mean start a blog but I’m supposed to ‘talk about my feelings, not repress them.’ At least apparently I have been more open lately. It’s helped a bit, I have felt more comfortable talking to people now._

_But that's all for now readers. You know as well as I do when I get back with my dinner, (I'm thinking micro pizza) that I will have more the bitch about. I mean I always have to rant any time I leave my room for a minute because everyone out side of it is an absolute twat. Later folks_

_-    LittleRed_

 

* * *

 

He closed his laptop and sighed, crawling out of his warm cocoon. Damn food, if not for food and the promise of leaving this place with a proper education his room would never be left. He heads downstairs his feet dragging, head down. If you're as small as possible then less people notice you, the less you're noticed the less you get attention. Attention is not something one wants, at least not when they want to be invisible.

 

His house seemed empty so it was easy for him to slip into the kitchen. The room always reminded him of his Mother. She'd always have something delicious stored around just for him. Even though it was a new house, the feeling never left. But that was before the accident. Before his normal suburban life was changed forever.

 

The front door creaked open and the chatting voices came through. With the laughter in the air it was obvious his Aunt and Aunt's boyfriend had returned from a ride.

 

The man had been a B-star motocross racer before he fell in with his Aunt and in turn picked up this lush and easy life. With a house fully paid for and a beautiful wife he had probably felt he had won the jacket pot. It annoyed the hell out of the brunette.  Stiles tapped his feet impatiently at the microwave faster, he did not have time, or patience to deal with them today. School was over and the last day was especially stressful he did not need a guilt trip from dumb and dumber at the moment.

 

"Look who decided to see the light." His Aunt, was blue eyes cold and calculating, a stream of maintained curls of blond hair, wore makeup in a way that extenuated her features and diminished her age, she had more than a few nips and tucks in her time. Which if you were guessing from her looks; wasn't that long ago. The woman however had her fair share of what you could only call sugar daddy's. She was a woman who always got her way either she was being overtly nice or excessively cruel to do so. She was a master of manipulation.

 

"I'll be out of your way shortly." He replied, he kept his face directed at the machine counting down the seconds until he would be saved by the beep.

 

"No please stay tell us about your day?" The sarcasm oozed out of the Man's mouth. Rick was a slime ball pure and simple. He thought he was hot, a young George Clooney. All smooth talk, dirty smirk and grease. He wasn't falling for his act, and never would again, not after the first time.

 

He turned with a glare, focused solely on his superficial Aunt. The woman had once perhaps had a soul, but had since sold it for the 'finer' things in life. A fast car, a tight face and slow boyfriend. Stiles held the glare just enough to make the woman squirm. He was not the little girl he had been before. He was older almost eighteen. Of age, and if he wanted to move out he could, especially when he got accepted to college. He didn't think he was going to leave though. He didn't want to move back with his father after being without him for over two years, it would feel weird going back home. Even though they kept in touch now more than before when he was still living with him after it happened.

 

"How cold, like your room no?" With a slam of the microwave the teenager stomped back upstairs. A pretty tame meeting today, though it was usually much worse. There was however another thing she could rant about on her blog. The ridiculous and childish pranks that they continued to pull on his. There was no logical reason that his room should be below freezing in the beginning of June. Besides for the amusement of the most childish adults on the planet. Pizza in hand the boy crawled back into his cocoon and reopened his laptop.

 

"I read because you're interesting, and I care about interesting people." The message was sent into his ask box on his blog. The corners of his lips turned up slightly. The first real smile he had cracked in weeks. It was good to know someone cared. Even if they were just a random on the internet. He took a second glance before he went to delete the message the user name caught his eye. It was from a user called BigBad.

 

"Stalker much?"

 


	2. The beginning of the story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years into his criminology course Stiles is still dealing with the after effects of 'The Accident.'
> 
> Jordan Parrish was just trying to do his job. He really didn't think the house call it would end up like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realistically, this is the real first chapter of the story. The first one was just a teaser of what the style would be like. There are a total of three narratives in this story. "The life" aka the first person POV which you will see in this chapter. "The Blog" which is Stiles POV throughout and "The Murder Mystery" which will be omnipotent narrative. They're all to tie together to give a well rounded story. 
> 
> Please beware that all of these POV have their own motives to make you believe one thing or another. This is a murder mystery, and nothing is like it appears to be.

_September 7 th 2014_

_I mean hi hello or whatever._

_If I had a theme for today's blog it would have to be school? I mean isn't that the theme for most of the internet this time of year? But anyway it's that time of year again, and unfortunately it's also third year into my program, and I still to this day kind of regret my decision. I mean who was I to think that criminal justice was going to be easy. Who was I to think that maybe, maybe my crazy home life wouldn't affect my need to get homework done._

_It definitely wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for the simple and perhaps horrid fact that they should've changed my name to Cinderella as soon as they gained custody. I need a job, at least I can start saving up for a place of my own. OR maybe just suck it up and move into the other option, which isn't really much of an option to be honest._

_I was sixteen when I was moved into my aunt and uncle’s, my aunt by birth, uncle by marriage. At first it was the only sensible option, Dad was going through a rough patch and I was still young enough to need someone to depend on, for shelter, food, clothing, and not falling towards insanity myself... The jury is out on if that last one was even succeeded to be honest. It was about a year after the accident when I moved to this small town, from the larger county I'd grew up in. It was only a four hour or so drive, and yet. It was a drive that neither my father nor I made often enough to say it was more than a quarter-yearly occurrence._

_The aunt and uncle are out at the moment, which thank [insert deity here.] I was not up to a game of pickup, or sweeping imaginary dust for half of my night, just because they needed entertainment outside of each other. Five years ago I wouldn't have understood what was happening, but the years into my program had taught me anything it was profiling and psychoanalysing people. Unfortunately for me, my Aunt and Uncle were abusers. Emotional manipulation was their game, and I was one of their star players. I'm pretty sure, since neither of them had a real job, I was their only player. My father sent them some sort of dowry I'm sure. Actually if Jordan could be trusted which, I mean it is Jordan so obviously, and if Lydia's predictions are correct they actually get a ton of money for me, and will until I'm twenty-five. Which is why I'm at their place at their insistence instead of in the dorms of the college I go to. Which is only a 45 minute drive away but still!_

_Woah ~! this post got away from me, there's literally nothing I wanted to say besides introduce you guys to my professors this year, who together remind me so strong of the seven deadly sins I couldn’t resist Or maybe a little bit like the cell block tango._

_Pop or sloth, named for more reasons than just the fact that he chewed gum like a life line, he was also old enough to be my father's father. He was my professor for Research methods and Ethics. I've had him before for a previous year but I hadn't realized the gum thing until today when I slipped into class seconds before it started due to Lydia's insistence that lunch off campus was more important than me being early. At least I wasn't late. She was right of course, but that still didn't mean I ever wanted to sit close enough to see the swirl of gum in his mouth ever again._

_Next Six, who actually doesn't remind me of any type of caricature from Chicago at all. Just that she's my sixth class of the semester. She's teaching English, a mandatory course apparently. It was third year English which if you paid any attention too school in grades seven through eleven was quite simple. Read, analyse regurgitate. As you could probably tell not a fan. That being said, maybe Prof Number 6 did have six husbands? Wives? Spouses? Hanging around. Who knows? I try to stay as uninvolved with my teachers social life as possible._

_Squish! Now now! I took biology as a minor because hello criminal justice you're going to see some gross shit. Especially thinking back to when my dad used to have his crime photos around, there was some scary things. Learning about things allows me to disconnect the who, the why, the what, from what's happening in front of me at the moment. So I thought learning about the insides of people and things, that I may one day see on the outside of their bodies would be good. Smart thinking right? Right, at least that is until Madame, because she's from Montreal or something equally French that isn’t France picked up a pigs heart and squeezed it, while it was only slight disconnected from its arteries. I just want to remind you, IT'S ONLY THE FIRST DAY._

_Oh shit, also my oh so lovely fam jam should be home soon, and I have to make sure the house is in order before they stroll in most likely intoxicated and make a mess for me to clean up anyways._

_Ugh! It's been lovely as always to rant and rave, I'll continue tomorrow about the wicked 3 other merry murderesses/murderers of the local community college. I mean you're not going to want to miss Uh uh, Cicero and Lipschitz. Just as a pre-courses the others where nothing compared to these three, especially Lipscthitz, god Freud would have a field day!_

_But seriously I have to go it's approaching midnight or something on a Tuesday, which I'm not sure where they go weekly but Tuesdays smelt a little like stale cigars and old gin, and gin always means my dearest uncle gets mean._

_Love you all, still don't know why you read this at all._

_LittleRed~_

 

He sat in the room, huddled underneath blankets and surrounded by pillows as he had for the past years he’s occupied this room. Books and files littered the floor, his own little sanctuary. Brown hair a mess and both big toes sticking out from holes in the fluffy socks he refused to be rid of. In front of him fingers clicked away tapping quickly, arranging and rearranging thoughts. He started the blog as a whim sometime a few years ago, mostly to vent about life to someone who could look at it from an outside perspective and his shrink said it’d be a good idea. If last year’s posts happened to be a portion of what he turned in for that year’s final project in his Developing Minds course then so be it.  With a total of over two thousand readers he had to wonder out loud.

 

"Who the hell reads this shit?" He was looking over and finding any typing mistakes, with how fast he typed there were always a few, on the most recent post before sending it off to the Internet.

 

"Whine, whine, whine god. If it wasn't me I would hate myself." With a scoff and a shake of the head, the youth pressed the little post button, his words officially part of the internet and free for the view of anyone who had found his little piece of cyberspace.

 

He had thought at times that maybe people had started to follow when he was posting scans of some of his work books, or his hobby of mythological creatures and had forgotten to unfollow when the blog strayed from academics and creatures to a blog solely on the life and times. At least that's what they were getting tonight, family life and complaining about school work. Not the usual snark that accompanied pretty much anything he said.

 

A ping distracted him from leaving his room; on his way to check over the house one last time.

 

"I almost miss the You've Got Mail chime, at least it had personality." At home there was very little times he got to talk to anyone, and unfortunately he loved to talk. Most of the time it was over the phone to Scott, or at school chatting with Lydia, but recently and more often than not it was over the web to an avid reader of his blog, his first official and long-term fan.

 

I read because you're interesting, and interesting has been hard to find lately.

 

He read the message quickly, before shaking his head with a small smile, replying could wait. It was the same answer he had gotten two years ago, the first time he had asked his readers why they stuck around.

 

The embrace of his warm cocoon of blankets was tempting, but the promise of food won out by a large margin. As he headed down stairs his feet dragged on the carpeted floor.  Most likely the reason for the holes that found their way into all of his socks. Head down, and shoulders hunched he slipped into the common rooms of the house.

 

He basically survived on the fact that if you make yourself small as possible than people were less likely to notice you. It had worked through high school after the accident and it seemed to work fairly well in her home life.

 

The kitchen was clean and spotless, since he cooked most of his own meals it usually was. There was little in the way of food, but the bit of income the traffic on his blog got him was at least enough to feed himself week to week. The other people in the house weren't always there, or even likely to purchase food. One for all or all for none.

 

He ran his hand through his tussled hair, amber brown eyes drowsy and shinning with tiredness. It was pretty late at night, though not as late as usual. The brunette always had trouble sleeping for the past couple of years. Sometimes getting better, and sometimes getting worse. Usually no more than five hours a night, maybe with a nap through English class, and a definite nap during the 5 hour hell break he had every Thursday. Because really? It's not like they teach anything anyways.

 

Food secured in the microwave he sat on the counter, feet dangling idle. Though nearly twenty years old there wasn't much to tell that. He was a smaller build, limbs long and lithe, all his bulk and power built into his lower legs. Wide expressive eyes, and when among friends and peers a loud and clumsy demeanor. Adorable really.

 

A ding alerted him to the finished pie.

 

"Fuck!" His voice rang clear and loud through the empty house. "Jesus h Christ!" The pizza fell with a splat on the floor. "Really stoked that I just dropped the last pie. Maybe a sandwich..."

 

Back in his room he opened back the forgotten message to send a reply.

 

_I feel like you might be a little bit biased._

**Maybe a little bit, but that's no fair**

 

_I feel like we've had this conversation before, correct me if I'm wrong but..._

 

**No no you're right, however it doesn't make it less true. I'm as you know apathetic to pretty much everything so if I find you interesting I'm more than certain that the other thousands of followers you have enjoy your rants and raves as well.**

_Well probably but that's not the point. I never read my own blog after I write it because it's that bad, I can't even imagine someone who doesn't live my life having to experience it second hand. Buuuut enough about me..._

 

**Oh right! Something major is happening tomorrow. Something like meeting for the first time?**

 

_Yeeeeeeeeesss!!! I can't believe you missed the first day of school._

 

**It doesn't matter. It's my masters which as I could remind you I could do anywhere, but I moved for you.**

 

_Yes you did! And you don't know how much that means to me. I mean you were there through so much. And you've become one of my best friends._

**Better than Scott? Or Lydia.**

 

_Well no because you don't allow me to cuddle you._

 

**Yet.**

 

_Good because I'm going to expect some serious cuddling at least once this week._

**We can decide on the time and place when we meet tomorrow.**

 

_I uhh, have to go!_

 

**They're home?**

 

_Not yet but I got to make sure the house is clean! See you at school, you have my number right?_

 

**Of course, it's not like we've been texting for a year or anything.**

 

_Shhhhh and bye <3!_

 

**Bye**

 

_P.S I might be back later._

* * *

 

* * *

 

There aren't many things that can freak me out. But there was the accident. I mean I haven't been a cop for long, but I am a horror fanatic. If its gore filled, gross or makes people squeamish, I've seen it, read it, maybe wrote it at one point. But there is nothing like the amount of blood that I saw that night. The blood to body ratio of that night still haunts me to this day. It haunts me now which is why I'm still awake even after over time.

 

The front of the house was white picketed with a blue door. The door unlocked as it was in a nice area. I was only called to the scene because my boss, the Sheriff, it was his house. He wasn't allowed near the scene it was the rules. I'm glad he wasn't there, I'm glad he was kept from the case, there was very little keeping the man together but if he would've saw what I had that night, if he would've witnessed the utter destruction of the corpse of his wife, or if he would've seen the look on her face. It makes me shudder till this day.

 

The worse was the little boy, who looked so much younger than he was. Though, in that situation there wouldn't be many people who wouldn't regress to a younger age.

 

And even still in that situation there was not much more beautiful than the boy hiding out in a pile full of bodies. Bodies laid on top of the child and if I hadn’t been observing for any signs of life I would’ve thought there were no survivors. He was that still in between the mass of bodies. Afraid it seemed of what had happened perhaps in shock of what it all meant. As I took another look the child wasn't too young.

 

Now you may attribute this to my love of horror and I'm usually not a fan of body gore. But large bright eyes blinked through a haze of bright red, and a darker sorrow filling his eyes. It made for quite a sight.

 

Angular cheeks, and full lips, still as the graves that would be dug for the bodies around him. Hair shaved. His features lent to ambiguous symmetry, his skin so drenched in blood, I couldn't define the colour. But I knew who he was, how could I not? As he crawled out of the grouping of bodies, small hands for his size covered in blood, eyes starting to water.

 

I knew the child could only be the brat that would hound the station in search of his father. It could only be the youth who smiled when he showed up with a bruise on his cheek from one rough sport or another he partook in. Even though I had only been at that station for a month of in-station duty, the stories that the sheriff had told me while I was transferring had made me feel as if I knew the child. Not to mention when I was a young delinquent and I was the one behind bars, and he would talk about the youngin' who had infiltrated his life.

 

And now that I put a face to the name and to the stories, there was no way I wouldn't fall at least a little bit in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! So the story really begins. Most chapters will be a mix of all three POVS. I will do my best to keep it organized as much as possible. But some confusion is meant to happen ;)
> 
> Also this should get slightly creepy and I hope it comes off that way. Sorry immensely if that squicks you out.


	3. The Games begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small towns don't often get interesting news. New people, rare, new businesses rarer, murders? almost never. Until today that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! 
> 
> So as I was reading, and editing this story I couldn't help but think that there are characterizations that I placed in here I didn't notice until going back over it. Especially in relation to Parrish. Who by now you all know is the "The Life" he's kinda creepy which is cool.

_September 15, 2014_

  
_Sooooooooo, on a scale of one ten today was... 0._  
_Started a high 12 then sunk with a negative 30, add a little bright side of about 20 then minus 2 for police questions._

_I should probably start from the beginning but... eh?_

_So last night, the parental like figures I've been living with never came home. Which not worrying even a little bit, it was a day that ended in Y. They usually would get home sometime around 9am or even later I sometimes never saw them if I had the choice. So when I left to school today I wasn't even a little worried but apparently, I had to be. But I'll get to that._

_So the figures weren't home, I go to school as usual. In my old beat up jeep with my over sweetened over caffinated something related to coffee-like beverage. There I am driving away living the dream, when I get a text from him._

_Now I feel like I haven't told you guys about him for like two years, and that being said when I used to talk about him, I was taking about him like he was some creepy stalker, which really he’s still kinda creepy. ( <3)_

_But You can tots see his blog at TheBigBad(which he apparently had before he read my blog, but I believe him 0% as I trust you all too as well. But anyway as time progressed I'm pretty sure I developed Stockholm syndrome sometime between now and then. Because the idiot moved his ass all the way from his home town, and is now going to be studying for his masters at my college! Of all the places in the world he came to study at mine._

_And a little secret? I'm super happy about it, despite the tragic day I had he was a highlight, and it might be because I didn't realize (due to crappy video and bad photo taking abilities I MEAN COME ON) that he's stupid attractive, like even more than officer Mchottie. Who I will also get to later on._

_But back to my point. I was going to school class was crap. I mean it was with Lipstichz who've I've still yet to tell you guys about but I feel like I'll have plenty of free time to talk about it when I'm chilling down at the station. As long as I can keep my phone._

_So class, then class was over and it's my day with the shorter hell break, aka only 2 hours, so I waited in the court yard for his first class to end._  
_And really dear you ( you know who you are and you know you're reading this can I just say your name or I swear I will call you sourwolf forever on my blog.)_

_So sourwolf (name tba) appeared behind me, and if I wasn't nervous enough. He pretty much gives me a huge hug from behind. I'm a naturally jumpy person, comes with the territory, slight ADD, plus complete paranoia so I obviously (to anyone who knows me) jump off the bench I'm sitting on flailing like a mad man and nearly topple over completely. Just to be caught by tall dark and handsome, scratch that I refuse to inflate his ego more than once in a single blog post. So tall dark and mysterious._

_"Hey" That's what I get a HEY? SERIOUSLY? After two years would you great someone with a hey. Fucking rude._

_But anyways I finally meet him! And I'll spare you the boring details, we're talking etc basically with no difference from how we usually chatted online. We talked about our courses and general things. Even though he's kinda old whatever._

_So skip forward a few minutes, and who strolls over by Officer Mchottie._

_I've talked about Mchottie since I started this blog. He's a local deputy who used to work under my father, very briefly before moving pretty shortly after the accident. He was really nice to me back then and it only took me two years (the same two years it took of intensive therapy to even get me to talk (before blog creation but also inspired by) before I realized that he was a complete babe. I was sixteen at the time, and he was already twenty threeish? I have no idea how old he is, I'll ask next time and update you! (More promises I probably won't keep but remind me! ) but anyways as I was saying he was hot._

_So Mchottie comes over, and I can tell its some official business because even though I no longer live with my dad I remember how he looked when he was on the job. And McHottie was definitely on a job, one that involved either me or sourwolf._

_Spoiler Alert: It was me._

_He pulled me aside, and told me that get this, my guardians were dead._  
_And I was a suspect._  
_Which que dramatic music, heart clenching nausea and pure confusion._  
_One, they were dead which means they're absolutely no sweat off my back, but also they were dead which means I was in hot water since apparently the cops think I did it. Then I was more worried about how they died, who killed them, how did they kill them, and I relearned that I was morbid as hell, which now that I look back at my posts that aren't just my daily ravings and even my blog title.. Well yea. How did I miss that?_

_So fast forward past the station bit because it was a yawn since they couldn't charge me with anything, because hello innocent until proven or w/e. And they just wanted to question me, but apparently tomorrow will be a whole lot more than that. I was sent home, and I'm pretty sure my dad is going to be called, which means he's going to call me._

_And, it's not even a holiday._

_Hence my shit day, now I'm going my ass to bed._

_Oh right..._  
_LittleRed out!_

  
The night was warm for the time of year. Nearing two am the pair didn't need more than a light jackets, unzipped. The man stood at an unimpressive five foot eight, the woman with her heels towering him by three inches. They were more than intoxicated. Ever since they fell into money via the woman's cousin’s brat they had been able to splurge on the finer things in life. A large house, vehicles, whatever they wanted. Which wasn't much, just a work free, stress free life. Someone at home to clean up after them, food, and being able to go out for the weekend for drinks and sex with no responsibilities to worry about.

It came with the cost of a teenage kid at the time, but after a few months the boy had learned his place. He knew what was expected and gave up asking for anything more really shortly. The last thing on their mind tonight though was the young adult that leeched off their modestly lavish life style.

They had stopped at the diner on the outside of town. They were thinking of just getting a late night breakfast, but there was the sweet temptation of the bar at the diner. A couple of pitchers later had led the two to driving very slowly, as intoxication hampered with the man’s sensibilities and vision.

"Babe, we should stop." The woman spoke slowly, she was a bit scared; less than she should be due to her own level of intoxication, but vaguely understanding that driving wasn't good.

"Don't you worry, we're only an hour out." His words slurred slightly, but he managed to get them out.

"I can't wait," she started to try another tactic. If she was good at one thing in her life it was getting what she wanted. Especially from men. There was little that a blink of her bright blue eyes and a toss of her bleach waved here couldn't get her. Her cosmetic improvements of course helped ease the way, but she knew how to work a man. "I'm dying to ride you." She leaned over to the driver’s side of the car, her voice coming out in slow waves.

"Mm, that sounds great. I'd love to have you on my cock." The car swerved when he closed his eyes, moaning at the image.

"So why not now? We can go to the woods just pull over you can have me against a tree? It will be just like that time we went on vacation."

"Hell yes." Smiling as she got her way, the car pulled over on the edge of the preserve. There was a path just ahead of them, one they were not familiar with but it looked like a well-traveled jogger’s path.

Little did they know they weren't completely alone.

 

The man watched the pair. His eyes trained for hunting prey. Even if his prey tonight weren't his usual, they would hopefully put up a good fight. Or at least be entertaining. He wished fleetingly that they were sober, but it wouldn't do to allow them another night. At least their dulled senses would make for a great ambush. He did like the thrill of frightening those he hunted.

As they stumbled into the beginning of the path, bodies nearly glued to each other, feet stumbling them stopping every once and a while to kiss and touch. The hunter grinned from his hidden position to follow.

Let the games begin.

 

He watched silently. They had stopped some time ago, having found a secluded part just off the path. Not that it mattered, as far as they knew they were the only ones out so late on a Monday. Especially in this part of the forest. The sounds and actions of the pair so vulgar it drowned out the natural nightly wild life from the area.

"Yes right there. That's it baby"

 

"What was that?" The woman stilled, sex filled mind clearer than her earlier inebriation. Her body was still thrumming with pleasure. Her partner not stopping his thrusts. Another sound caught her attention, it was hard to hear anything beyond her lover’s sounds, but the sharp snap of a stick followed be a steady howl grabbed her full attention. Again, the snapping of a stick, but this time much closer. "Hey stop," as she spoke she noticed a new rustling sound coming from the same direction. "Stop stop!" She whispered harshly, there was definitely someone coming.

She didn't want to get caught, but it was more than that. The tension in the air was something besides just being caught being naughty. There was no reason for anyone to be out there at this time. Anyone would've gone another direction as soon as they heard them going at it. The sound wasn't even coming from the path, it was coming from within the forest. Somewhere behind her lovers back, right in front of her, someone was approaching, and by the sound of the forest they were approaching fast.

 

Her eyes went wide as she picked up movement shortly in the distance. With a shove she pushed him off of her.

"I said stop, I hear something."

"It's okay if we get caught." With a grin, that still spoke of his hindered state the man came back at her for a kiss.

"No watch out!" Her eyes looked back into eyes that seemed to glow with maliciousness in front of her. Behind her boyfriend a large man, brought a finger to his lips in an imitation of 'shush'. Light eyes crazed and smile wide. Even as she became covered in blood she couldn't do more than look on, she didn't dare move. Frozen in fear and somewhat else. Nothing she told her body to, happened.

"I am curious," The malicious man looked up from where he was handling her dead boyfriend's body with little more than a turn of his arm. Light as a feather. Raw strength lending to ease. "Did you love him?" As he asked a knife in his hand, steadily carved away at her now dead boyfriend’s ribcage. There wasn't the methodical practice of a doctor. This was like sawing at an overcooked steak.

The knife made a sloshing sound, back and forth back and forth. Her eyes were riveted to the movement. Catching her breath she went to let out a scream, she was instantly cut off with both fear and the murderer’s large hand over her mouth. The man circled around her, so her back was to his chest.

"Now we can't have that can we?" His voice worked in a placating tone as he whispered into her ears. "Now you'll have to stay with me." The man dragged her still body over to where to beginning of his mess. "You can help, or you can be quieter." He slowly removed his hand from her mouth, his arms however wrapped more firmly around her body holding her in front of him. It put her kneeling on the ground right in front of the corpse of her dead lover inches away. "Now what will it be?"

"I'll be quiet." She was surprised as her voice come out as in a whisper. From the moment she tried to scream, her voice felt held. The relief she felt briefly actually made her want to scream again. As soon as the relief left a pressure in her chest caused her more than slight panic.

"Good girl." He patted her blond head, much like how you would pet a dog. His bloodied hand covered her face and hair in the quickly cooling life essence. Blond hair now closer to red, the tears that had started to fall from her eyes ran pink. She jumped when without warning he let out a shrill whistle. Her shock caused him laughter. "Relax my dear, it's just my pets."

Silence echoed through the forest, her senses tuned into everything around her. From the brush she heard the telltale sounds of dogs. Heavy panting and heavier foot falls came towards the two of them. She wondered briefly what he had dogs for. He was dangerous enough on his own.

"Hey boys," the man gave her a squeeze reminiscence of a sick hug. "Aren't they cute?" He smiled at her, the two large dogs took a seat.

Cute was the last thing that she would called the two beasts in front of her. And beasts were the only word that could be used to describe them. They were easily three foot seated, large and some sort of dark shade, she wasn't sure if they were black, grey or dark brown. However she could notice their cold light almost white eyes. Like their owner the eyes shone with maliciousness. It could be her fear talking, but she thought they looked quite hungry, their large mouths open and drooling.

"Fetch boys." A gasp escaped her, as the two large beasts took to the now corpse of her boyfriend with claws and teeth. They were tearing through his back, snuffling and digging through flesh and bones. She shut her eyes against the sight, her breath coming out in short pants. Hot tears ran down her face, mixing with the blood around her mouth. "Open up my dear, you have to watch this. You're next."

...

"Ah there it is." Now stock still her fate sealed by the words from his mouth, the man left her. Only to lean over where his dogs had finished digging. Apparently looking for something. "As I was saying before you screamed and so rudely interrupted me." He dug through the mess of her former lovers chest. Grasped in his hand was the still warm, and dripping heart that had once belong to the man she had spent a large chunk of her favourite memories with. "I am now holding his heart." He turned to her, eyes not losing their crazed gaze. "I want to know did he hold yours? Did you love him, would you have married him, for sickness and in health till death? Though, that would be now wouldn't it? He is quite dead." The man tilted his head in a childish like manner that made her shudder at the wrongness of it. "So? Did you love him? Do you even know what love is?"

"What, what would you know about love? You monster!" Her voice raised, as much as she dared. The two beasts still around, muzzles now covered in dark blood. Eyes glinting stronger for it.

"You don't know!" His voice boomed through the forest. His hand clenched against the beating heart. The tissue contracting under the force of his hand. "You don't know how much I love! I'm doing all this for love. You both were in my way, in my way for the love that I wanted. Ruining him for the future, ruining him for me! You destroyed his joy, made him unhappy and that caused him so much grief. All I want is for him to be free of your pain, of you and that man's abuse. So don't tell me about love, when you would damage your own flesh and blood, for something as trivial as money! I know, I know about it all." He was breathing hard by the time his rant was over. His chest moved up and down rapidly, the heart that was once held in his hand now discarded on the ground.

"You're doing this for him? Does he even know you!?" Her voice was incredulous. How could this man, who she had never seen of or heard of before being punishing for her for things he had no right to know.

"I'm doing this for love. My love for him, and against the sham that you made believe was love and affection. Getting drunk on the weekends, sex with your partner, just to go off with someone else during the week. You're a horrible person, and the world will be better without you. It's your time."

She knew she was about to die. She saw it in his eyes, she heard it in his voice and felt it in her bones. There was no running now, she couldn't move if she tried. Fear clung to her like a stench, she had no feeling in any of her limbs.

"Unfortunately for you, it will not be a quick death. My boys like to play with their food." With that the man gave another quick whistle, quieter than the last one. And the two beasts perked up before moving towards her. She had nowhere to run, and wouldn't have had the chance to. In seconds they were on her, and the first claw sunk into her flesh.

The pain was biting, like the first winter wind on exposed skin. The burning heat from an encounter with fire. Their teeth so sharp her skin split like a hot knife through butter. If she could scream she would, but they had already tore through her vocal cord. The last thing she saw beyond the bright light eyes of the demons tearing at her was the equal bright nearly full moon.

The man smiled, picking up the heart of both of his victims. Licking his lips he whistled a small tune as he made his way out of the forest.

 

"Well that was a good game."

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

It went as good as could be expected. Which actually meant not bad at all. To anyone else telling someone that their current housemates and or guardians were dead is usually pretty traumatic. The same could not be said for Stiles.

I personally coudn't imagine what that would do to me. Though my relationship with my family, is completely different from how Stiles interacts with his Aunt and Uncle. I had always more than suspected that the two put in charge of Stiles were not the nicest folks. The woman was John's cousin not even directly an Aunt. But she was the closest someone that could claim responsibility for a teenage boy who had just lost his mother, and was slowly losing his father. While the father was close to losing both his job and his mind.

While they were there, the suspect of abuse reports filled by neighbors over the years of their residency. From neglect to loud yelling, but by the time Stiles was eighteen he had been living with the two for a while, and had stayed for some reason. Maybe obligation? And all of the reports had been null on his wishes. Money was out that the boy had finally gotten fed up with hare living arrangements and snapped looking to change them himself with the murder of his two abusers. I personally thought that was complete bullshit. I've spent quite a bit of time with Stiles, and his moral compass though perhaps not due north would not lead him to murder. He was more subtle than that.

It still led to me having to question him though. So after I had separated him from his date? At least I think it was one, they looked pretty cozy, I took Stiles down to the station. He went willingly, I think a bit in shock, and a bit because he needed to confirm what he was hearing. Was it true? Were they really dead?

He identified both of the bodies, even though we had easily identified them from the I.ds they had on them and the car parked just outside the start of the path. He then proceeded to answer all of our questions, even though he knew that by law he didn't have to. He left that night, with a face I couldn't recognize, and I have spent long hours cataloging his expressions and this one as new.

I sighed, after the long day and also the stressful call to my old boss about his family I was beyond exhausted. I wanted nothing more than a hot shower, my bed and maybe a short run with the boys. Not necessarily in that order though. I returned home to quite a site and I knew my night would take a little longer to finally come to an end.

The boys, my two large malamutes were named Matty and Mas, ages two and three respectively. Were huge, even by their breed standards they were large. Standing on their hind legs they both towered over my six feet. They were just overgrown puppies though, and they were currently very dirty and very frightened puppies.

Not many things frightened my dogs. My self and bears are pretty much their threshold for fright. But the poor things, were almost head to toe in dirt, which admitted was probably my fault since I didn't clean them after their run earlier. What did catch my attention was my open back door. I didn't remember locking it, but I usually do.

I was still in uniform at that time, and still had my sidearm. I unclicked the safety and stepped fully into my house. I locked both doors before I made my way further into the cabin, checking all the rooms on the main floor before heading to the stairs. I took the stairs slowly silently. The only sounds my own boots on the wood floor, and the slight gallop from my two beasts. Upstairs broke into four different rooms. I checked each slowly and cautiously. The day had already put me on edge, and to come home to find two scared dogs and my back door wide open there was a definite increase to my heart rate. The rooms were clear, but I didn't lower my gun until I did a second sweep.

A quick check outside confirmed that it was a cool night for September, the stars were clear enough, the moon bright and just under full in the sky. Feeling confident and safe in my home I turned around just to stop in my tracks when I noticed that my lovely beasts had tracked mud all through my house. It was starting to look like my easy night of shower run and sleep was going to turn into more of a night of cleaning house. At this rate I'd be up to hear my alarm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this quickly for now, but only because I am off from work. Starting tomorrow I'm back at the grind so it will be much slower updates. Sorry <3


	4. Falling a least a little bit in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek's first meeting. Jordan has to tell some bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, this and one tomorrow will probably be the last updates for a while. At least until some more interest is shown and I have time to edit and work on it further. No Stiles blog this time! 
> 
> Also as you can tell, the storyline isn't quite linear but close enough that I hope you don't get too confused.

 

* * *

* * *

When I got the call I was out with my dogs in the woods. I ran at least once a day. With my eating habits I didn't have much of a choice. It was easy to get a work out from where I lived. I was off in a small clearing out side of town in the forest. I had never really grew up a city boy I was always more attuned to nature and the great outdoors, which is probably why I was the one called to the scene.

 

A 10-54 is the code for a possible dead body. It took me just under an hour to get to the scene. It was 6am in the morning, and the call had been made by a civilian, a jogger who had seen something strange off of the path that ran through the less dense forest area.

 

By the time I got there, there were already another partner pairing of cops, they were newer to the team, at least newer than me. I'd been on this particular force already for going on five years and in some sort of service for eight now. As soon as I got on the scene, there was no way it was just a possible dead body, there were two very mutilated and very much not breathing corpses.

 

The bodies were torn apart. It was the one of the few real life horror scenes I've witnessed. There were two bodies, laid face down on the ground. Their arms, legs and torsos a mess of huge gashing teeth marks. Slices of what looked like teeth or claws ran down their thighs. Their insides were pulled out as if they were about to be devoured. From underneath the bodies the intestines laid out just to the side of the bodies. It was definitely not a pretty sight, and from first looking at it, it looked just like an animal attack.

 

The CSI guys got there a few minutes later, after I had supervised the taking of the witness statements. I was more than a little shocked, when less than ten minutes later I was interrupted from my notes with an alarming detail. After the bodies had been turned over as they had been laying face down in the dirt. The two victims were still full faced. Fully faced and recognizable.

 

"Hey look at this!"

 

If that wasn't the shocker, the fact that their hearts were both missing from all the other mutilated insides was just strange. That was not an animal thing to do. Animals ate all they had access too, if all the other important bits were there after they had been ravaged this was a bit more methodical than first indicated.

 

"Are those a set of foot prints?" I vaguely heard someone talk as I re-examined the scene. The missing hearts were weird. I knew that there are predators that would eat the best parts of the body first but to start with the heart, that was symbolic. Taking a look at the foot prints I thought that was even stranger. There were more than one set, the pairs were nestled together.

 

Which led me to believe murder, but the who why what and how still alluded me. A large canine could have easily made the teeth marks, or even a wild animal after the attack. What didn't baffle me was the motive. With these two the motive could be them breathing to hard.

 

When the other cops I.Ded the two through the proper channels I knew that it was then that I would be the one to deliver the news. I'd have to go and tell Stiles that his family members were dead.

 

 

I arrived at the school, sometime in the afternoon. I was easily drawn to him, he's a lively person to trace. All limbs and movement even when still. It made him easy to find if you were looking, but he also alluded himself in away that passer-bys wouldn't notice him. I never had a chance. His hair was longer than it used to be. Artfully tousled like the best kind of bedhead. It shone in the sun, the brown reflecting shades of coppers and golds.

 

He was in the company of a man that I had never seen before. Though I can't say that I know everyone in town but I do pride myself on knowing most. It's a small town, a small county even. It's easy to recognize someone new, and this was definitely someone new. Stiles really only had three people he hung out with regularly, that weren't me. He had Lydia, Scott even though he lived back in his old town, and Danny, but that was only in combination with Lydia and Lydia's boyfriend or when he needed some sort of computer help. I narrowed my eyes from my cruiser.

 

They were hugging, which meant closeness, Stiles was never a shy person with affection. He craved it most of the time. However he never went around hugging random people, at least from what I know. So I found it suspect that this new guy in town, would have a close enough relationship to him that he wuold be standing in the middle of the school campus hugging him, with no sign of Lydia or Danny around. I made it my mission to find out who he was before I left today.

 

I approached them less than silently. I wanted them to know I was coming, if I happened to glare openly at the guy no one has to know except me and him.

 

"Hi there, I’m officer Parrish. I'm a deputy at the station." I stuck out my hand for him to shake, it was a classic tactic. If you offered your name and your hand, most people would reply in kind. A simple hand shake and a great way to find out just who you're dealing with.

 

"I'm Derek can I help you officer?"

 

"Nice meeting you, I was actually looking to speak to G for a while." It wasn't quite professional to use a nickname while on official police business but I wanted the guy to know that me and Stiles were close enough for real names. The guy was very alpha male, but I knew a little something about showing people you mean business. Even if that business is to stay away.

 

"Heeey Jordan, what's going on? You don't usually visit me all decked out. And you definitely don't visit me introducing yourself by officer using something close to that keysmash of my first name." I had to hide the smile that threatened to show it's self on my face at Stiles harsh critique. It wouldn't look good before breaking such bad news.

 

"Yea, I have something to tell you. In private might be better."

 

"Okay, yea. Hey Der, I'll be like five minutes." We walked a little ways away, my glare from earlier returned at me with full force from green eyes and impressive eyebrows. It didn't even phase me as I lightly put my hand on Stiles’ lower back to lead him further away. "So what's up?"

 

"Today, I got a call while I was running with the boys." I started with a build-up, which I regretted instantly because if there is one thing about Stiles that changed since the from the first two years I knew him. He loves to talk, perhaps its to make up for how little he communicated after the accident but now starting a conversation with him was a part time job.

 

"Oh! How are they? I have to make time to come and visit them again. I miss them." He gushed warmly about my two pet dogs, who were more like family than actual pets, which made them pains in my ass.

 

"They're good, however the bodies that I found in the woods today are not so good." Some people would probably say it was crass to lead in with a joking tone. I knew though that this would get his attention more than a very serious reveling.

 

"Oookay? One why where their bodies in your woods, that's hella creepy. Two why did you need to come all the way here to tell me about them?"

 

"The two bodies were identified as your guardians." I saw shock register on his face, followed by a confused scowl. Confusion laid rampant for many minutes. Stiles frowned suddenly, then tilted his head, eyes looked to the sky, then fell back down again. It looked as if he was not sure what expression he should make.

 

"Oh, uhhh.. Do I need to go to the station or what?" I could read his expression. It confused me a little. Relief. He actually seemed to relax the tension in his face and shoulders. I could tell he had come to some type of conclusion.

 

"You know I'm not arresting you, so if you could come for identification and to answer some questions, that be great." I replied quickly, it would be a little combersome if he didn't come down, but the boy knew police proceedings as well if not better than me. "But I won't make you. I know this is a lot." I looked down at him, our height difference wasn't much about two of three inches but at the moment it made me feel awkwardly tall.

 

"Shut up Jordan, I'm coming to the station now, before that I'm going to go say goodbye to Der. Don't move I'll be right back." I turned my head to avoid looking, I didn't want to know how close they were, I didn't want to know if they were more than friends; because it actually didn't matter. I knew him first and I've known him longer. Our friendship wouldn't be threatened just by some guy.

 

 

* * *

The boy sat on the bench, nervous hands twitched from checking and rechecking all his notifications, social media status, texts anything to keep his mind off of the upcoming meeting.

 

He had met him online. First through his blog, as one of his first followers. Then a skype friend, and suddenly one of his greatest confidants. He lived nowhere near him. Far enough that it was no place he knew, but near enough that he never bothered to remember the exact name. For over two years the two had grown closer, as friends. The man saw him as more though.

 

His brown hair shuffled in the wind, his brown eyes shining in the late summer sun. He was wearing Shorts and a t-shirt. Though it was a seasonably warm temperature he had on a longer plaid shirt he wrapped around his exposed legs in as he sat crossed legged.

 

The man approached him silently, smiling a small smile. He wore dark blue jeans, and a short sleeved plain black-tee. Clean shaven, was not how he usually wore his facial hair but he was looking to make a good impression and hopefully it was one that didn't make the boy run. He's been told the stubble is intimidating. At least that's what his uncle has said. Unable to stop himself he came up behind the boy causing him to startle.

 

"Hey!" The boy ended up in his arms, if only for his fast reflexes.  "Nice catch." When the smiling eyes turned to him for the first time in real life, it was more than he could imagine.  There was something alluring about the otherwise dull tone of brown to his eyes that somehow twinkled with light and mirth.  He had known the younger male long enough to know that his life wasn't a generally happy one, but he made jokes and snarked like nothing bothered him, even though it did. It was the reason he had first contacted him years ago.

 

"Nice indeed." So what if he was flirting with a boy more than six years his junior. The age difference had never really bothered him. He was beautiful, inside and out and he was more than half in love with him from the time he first insulted him.

 

"Don't be cheeky asshole." Now out of his arms, he couldn't help but puff out his chest at the blatant once over he gave him. It was nice to feel that he was attracted to him in some way, even if only for looks it would never match what he felt for him but maybe one day he would see.

 

"It's nice to see you, now can I get a real hug or? Am I going to have to beg?" Dimples appeared on his cheeks when he grinned.

 

"Come here dude." They hugged, like they had talked about for over a year now, since he first told the boy that he'd find a way to move closer.

 

"Don't call me that." He let out a loud bark of laughter, his head thrown back and long neck exposed. It was an old joke between them. From when they first met, he had been blogging and he had sent him a message. It was in the times when he didn't talk to many people, he barely had uttered a word since the time of the accident. He had called him dude and then an idiot, for liking his blog. He had immediately replied that he wasn't an idiot, and not to call him dude. Which led to the snarkiest battle of wits the boy had ever to that day encountered outside of Lydia and her ex boyfriend.

 

It made the boy open up for the first time in a while. He opened up about the death of his mother at last. Not the circumstances of it, but definitely that she was dead. Who she was to him, that his mother was his be all end all. The rock in his ocean. He talked to him about his dad, how even though they didn't live together anymore, even though they weren't as close as they used to be he still loved him. He loved him unbendingly, against his struggle with alcoholism, and his avoidance of looking at him in the eye for how much he looked like his late mom. Their relationship had been strained at one point but now it was better. It was more than better, they were good friends and he was still a father.

 

In turn he told him about his crazed uncle, who had raised him. And his siblings who were estranged but still teased him mercilessly. His older sister, who was he thought better than him in every way. And they connected, they moved from being TheBigBad and LittleRed to being Stiles and Der. To becoming close, having movie marathons via skype, enjoying each other’s company helping each other with homework. And at least on the younger male’s end falling a little bit in love.

 

They have never broached that topic, but he was more than certain that he felt the same way. He knew he didn't have many friends, and he could be curt and short, unable to talk and speak his mind. Not the best with people. But he had told Stiles that he made him feel comfortable, he was the one who read him like a book. He could have his silent days and not feel burdened in his presence to talk. To not feel like it was mandatory to speak when he had nothing to say. It helped quite a bit that he was able to fill silence with just movement, able to talk and talk about anything and everything that entered the younger brunette’s mind.

 

They just worked, and now they were meeting and there was nothing better to either of them. Nothing that could of made a day of school more bright then the promise of seeing him not just today but tomorrow and the next day as well. To have him living so close.

 

Stiles hugged him one more time tightly, his face hidden in the curve of his neck. He wanted to remember this moment for a long time. He let go and they went to sit on the bench. They talked about everything from how his drive was 'good' to how his uncle was 'good but still crazy' to what classes he was taking during his masters. They just enjoyed each other’s presence at least until it was the time that they were forced to end.

 

 Until the pair were interrupted by none other than the only other person the younger male had ever felt an attraction to. The only person that he had beyond sex wanted to spend time with romantically. Stiles might as well had been living a young adult novel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are the different POVs going? I'm trying to keep it as true to form as possible. While still being true to the separate narratives.


	5. The start of friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia and Stiles first step into friendship. Parrish deals with a stressful case, and Stiles complains about his teachers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lalala this is like really long? Sorry.  
>  It's also still not beta'd so mistakes are all mine

 

"Heeeeey daddio." Stiles answered his phone with hesitation. He still wasn't sure what he was feeling. What he did know however was that there was absolutely no way he was going to school today. The bodies had been on the news, his teachers wouldn't expect him to show up after he sent out the email about the deaths. And he could be hounded by Lydia from the comfort of his own bed. What that didn't save him from however was the inevitable phone call from his father.

 

"Hey Kiddo, how are you doing?" As casual as the man tried to sound, he was and would always would be a cop. He sounded like an interviewer anytime he asked a question. Always probing for an answer. Stiles had gotten pretty good at dodging over the past years. He hid his shitty relationship with his aunt, he hid just how much he hated her living arrangements. How much he just wanted to go home and be with his father, drinking problem or not. The man always thought he was doing the right thing for Stiles, and even through his breakdown he knew that getting the boy help meant getting himself help as well. Keeping them alive and well in the long run would take some sacrifices even if it meant leaving his only son with distant cousins.

 

"I'm fine dad."

 

"Are you sure? Because I can be there in a few hours. I was going to come up anyway as soon as Parrish called me. But I can be there by tonight if you need me." The concern in his voice was real as he knew it would be. Even though they haven't lived together for about five years now their relationship was close. The tougher times they had right after the accident had been mended by therapy on both their sides and a healthy dose of telephone communication.

 

"Dad please, I can survive for a while. I have friends, you sent Jordan remStiles?" The boy rolled his eyes. He was locked in his room, yet again toes covered in fluffy socks, his body wrapped to fend off the autumn chill.

 

"And I don't regret it a bit. He's a good man."

 

"Yes I know dad, he was really nice to me today. When he told me the news." If his father was going to skirt around it he’d be on the phone all night. Which is why with little preamble he finally got to the reason for the phone call.

 

"They're saying it's a wild animal?" Her father asked; and so they said. But Stiles had seen the bodies himself and it was a really prominent amount of gore. And a whole lot of body left if it was really an animal. Far as he knew from tons of research animals don't just attack to attack, they usually eat what they're killing.

 

"Yea that's what the reports said." He placated him with that. As a cop who was on the right side of the law, he would believe what the reports were saying. Even if the boy knew that may not be the case.

 

"Alright good, and if you're sure you're okay I have to go back to work, to finish things up before I travel."

 

"Goodnight dad, actually find time to sleep tonight okay?"

 

"I'll try, you too kiddo love you."

 

"Love you too."

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Tell me about Derek, Who is he? Where did you meet him? Are his arms real? Why haven't I met him? What happened to officer hottie?"

 

"Hello to you to Lydia." The brunet rolled his eyes. He was both surprised and anticipating the third degree from his strawberry blond friend.

 

Lydia Martin was what one would call a Queen B. Think Regina George but nicer, actually ok not nicer, but definitely more intelligent. In elementary school she was the girl everyone wanted to be invited to her birthdays, in high school she was girlfriend to the top jock, had the highest GPA, the girl you either wanted to be or be with.

 

The two had attended the same school since junior kindergarten. They had competed for highest marks since the first career day in second grade when they found out that this would determine their future. They were also decidedly not friends.

 

Stiles had always been a strange kid. Nerdy, naturally lanky much like a foal, sarcastic, hyper and generally apathetic. While smart he never strived for the popularity that Lydia had or gained any recognition for his intelligence. It was masked by his hyperactivity and his aptitude for getting into trouble. Stiles was fine with just his parents, Scott and occasionally the glue eater from preschool; who according to Scott was now a lady killer, and watching the enigma that was Lydia Martin from the side lines.

 

It wasn't until the accident that Lydia and he exchanged friendly words. Sure jibs and occasional sarcastic remarks had been passed between each other. Even declarations of live from Stiles’ end. But it wasn't until a fateful meeting at the psychiatrist that led them to being friends.

 

~You're cute when you're not making a fool of yourself. I also know that you're only second to me in school. Since it seems we're both pretty, smart and apparently crazy. We should team up." ~

 

Even though Stiles at the time had been confused, and had merely raised an eyebrow at the other teen. Without saying more than three words in the first month, it was the beginning of a very beautiful and mutually beneficial friendship.

 

"Lyd's seriously. Let me breath then you can bombarded me with questions."

 

"Are we talking about that hot peice of ass in the courtyard with you the other day?" Enter Danny. Danny was Lydia's friend first. Stiles and him got along fine but they had nothing in common other than the fact they both liked living on their computers and hot men. The used to play on the lacrosse team together before... but Danny was willing to ignore what he knew about the accident. Meaning he was really only around Stiles for gossip.

 

"Oh my god yes.” Stiles huffed. “So his name is Derek, he's currently getting his masters at this university. I've been talking to him for over two years now, and he moved here not just because of the great programs but also because he wanted to meet me."

 

"Oh he's the internet guy?" Lydia pretty much knew Stiles whole history. As his only female friend, Scott refused to talk boys with him, Lydia was Stile’s go to for anything sex, boys, and fashion related. With good choice, Lydia excelled in social aspects.

 

"Exactly," Stiles answered shortly. There wasn't much else he needed to say, Lydia knew their history, and Danny already looked bored seeming to sense that Derek wouldn't be interested in him. Or not caring since he was currently in a pretty serious relationship with one of the twins on campus. The ones Stiles could never, and has never cared to try to tell them apart.

 

"Alright so now can we talk about how you're stupid guardians are dead?" Blunt as ever Lydia breached the subject. It wasn't even a full two days, but she read exactly how much Stiles was caring about the subject. Very little. Lydia was of the mind Stiles should have left the two abusers years ago, but Stiles always said he had it handled. Lydia would roll her eyes; handled her tiny bubble butt. "Good riddance if you ask me. They were a complete waste of oxygen and mass."

 

"Tell me how you really feel Lyds." With a purse of her lips the older female stood ignoring Stiles's previous bout of sarcasm.

 

"I will tell you all about how I feel as we walk to class. Come let's go, statistics waits for no mortal." It was the only class they had together. Lydia was studying mathematics because she was both a genius and also clearly the more boring of the two.

 

"Bye Danny!" Stiles waved at the tanned boy quickly as he was easily dragged from his seat. Lydia was a force of nature.

 

They continued to walk along the halls, Stiles following even though he knew they had a good twenty minutes before their class really started. There was something that Lydia wanted to talk about that she didn't want Danny to hear.

 

"So what's really up?"

 

"The dreams started again." The reason Lydia had first been sent to seek psychiatric help was because of her dreams. While officially diagnosed with Psychosis the strawberry blond always thought it was beyond that.

 

"When and what happened?" The strangest things about Lydia's dreams that lead the doctors to their conclusions, is that from what they said, they believe Lydia was being influenced by what happened in real life. Lydia however was more inclined that she was above the average capability of the human mind, and could either see the future, or connect to other minds. The genius wasn't sure which she believed at any one time.

 

"I had a dream three nights ago. It wasn't like the last time. I haven't had a dream like this, in a long time. They've been quiet since we moved here, and now... the night when the two leeches you unfortunately had to live with died, I had a dream or vision or something. I saw them being murdered." And really that was the crutch of the matter. Lydia only ever dreamed of tragedy. Their old town had been filled with it. Even before the accident, which was the dream that had finally broken through the perfected facade of the former prom queen. There had always been little murders, accidents, animal attacks that littered the small town five to six times a year. And apparently since little Lydia has been dreaming about them all.

 

Stiles had never really doubted his friend. There were things that he believed unexplained, but he also didn't know what he truly thought about it. How was it that it happened to be Lydia who saw all these things? There were almost no other cases similar to this in recorded medical history. Trust him, he checked.

 

"Have you stopped taking your pills?" It was a hypocritical thing to ask. Stiles hadn't taken his anti-drepressents or any of his other prescriptions besides his Adderall for over a year and a half. The look that Lydia sent his way, proved that the strawberry blond felt the same.

 

"You and I both know I haven't taken one of those damn mood changers since we moved here." Lydia had followed Stiles to the town they were now in of her own free will. While Stiles after a year of living with her father who was coping with the death of his wife in the worst way, got sent to live with his cousin Lydia had made plans. Over the couple of months since their reintroduction at the doctors Lydia decided she also needed a change. She applied herself to early graduation from high school, finishing a whole year and a bit before Stiles, who had been held back in a few classes due to the accident.

 

 

Her parents divorced and both inherently wealthy they felt responsible for her psychiatric problems so they dealt with it the only way they knew how. By throwing money at their problem. So when it came time to choose a university this is the one she chose, with tuition and a three bedroom condo all to herself. Stiles by that time was already finishing his schooling at a local high school in his new town. Lydia had tried to convince Stiles to move in with her at the start of university, but the boy had a strong moral compass and refused to leave the care his father had left him with. Especially without being able to contribute even a little bit to rent and other needs he felt like he would be taking advantage and refused.

 

"Okay, so what did you see?"

 

"A man, tall, large build. It was more feelings, and sounds. I don't usually see much." It wasn't the first time Lydia had talked about her dreams to the brunette. But it was the first time she had ever really described one. "I felt scared, so scared at moments. Then at others I felt calm, and vindicated. It was a roller coaster. I went from wanting to scream bloody murder to wanting to giggle. I woke up nauseas. The worst though was the sounds. I could hear fear. Heavy breathes, choked gasps and the sawing. The crunching through bones." Lydia's full body shuddered violently, from her perfectly curled locks to her black patent leather heels.

 

"Sounds gross."

 

"It was." The strawberry blond glared at the brunette. She was never sure if Stiles ever believed her when she had told him about her dreams or just humoured her. But Lydia knew this wasn't psychosis. Narcissism and a few Freudian slips sure she'd believe it. But she had read every reputable paper on the subject that was written in the last seven years. She did not have psychosis. What she had was something very close to extreme empathy. And quite frankly it creeped her out

 

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

Paper work is not a saving grace. As I filed the reports for the events of yesterday and checked the notes that I had made previously there was one thing that was for certain. Somewhere around this town there was a murderer. However we currently had no witnesses and no believable suspects. A quick sweep of Stiles's phone confirmed his story of being home all night. There were skype records, and status updates on various social media. Another thing that denied his involvement was the analysis of the foot prints found at the scene.

 

There were three distinct prints, the two that belonged to the now deceased couple, and a third a size ten mens work boot. The evidence was currently being kept under lock and key. The police force were all in agreement that they didn't want a scare in the small county. Officially it was labelled as a double homicide, for current public records everyone was led to believe that it was an animal attack. It probably wouldn't last long, but for the moment while we investigated further it was enough to keep the public eye out of the case.

 

It very well could be a random act. But there were just the smallest things that led to creepier and more sinister plans. The stolen hearts struck me as strange. Why would someone want to steal hearts? Especially ones of such unhealthy people. That led to not being sold to the black market, and left only what our imaginations could come up with.

 

I closed my book with a snap, currently fed up with the reports. I was at the point where I had written and checked over everything. There wasn't much to go on. And with no witnesses we were currently at a dead end... Unless we wanted to go all Cinderella on the county and ask for guys shoes. Then there was the little question of did the perp even live in the area? Or were they just on their way through looking for a kill. Was it a first time? Or was this a string of murders we just hadn't found the thread to. It was driving me mad, so I was taking every chance available to make it out of the station.

 

It came in the form of breaking up a domestic one county over, but it was worth it to be away from the paper work and stress. The couple hadn't gotten physical, thank god I've never been good handling domestic abuse. After realizing they were yelling too loud the pair settled down quietly arguing about their preferences of cats versus dogs rather than shouting about it.

 

My father had been abusive when I was a child. Never to me, because I was a “man’s man” but, every time I came across an aggressive domestic case I didn't cope well. It wasn't something that I could handle well it was far too close to home. My mother like her mother was a strong woman. She had built her house from scratch as we do in our family by the time she was sixteen. She met a man at eighteen, who took her to bed and got her pregnant. From that pregnancy she begot myself and my slightly older sister. She was always a strong woman, but love can change people.

 

As twins growing up my mother had treated us the same. We learned the same things, we were both taught to cook, clean, to hunt all at my mother's side. What I didn't know was that all my sister was learning from my father was pain and fear. It wasn't until I was older, too old really when I realized exactly what my father really was. He sat me down when I turned sixteen, he told me how a man should act. How a woman should behave. I was an opinionated youngster and it had only fostered itself under the tutelage of my mother, and the visits to my grandparents. I lashed out. It was the first time I got to see my father's true self reflected when he hit me.

 

From that day forward I watched him like a hawk. I wasn't fully done puberty yet but I was big kid. I was already nearing six feet and I was smart. I did anything I could to attract his ire rather than have it faced towards my sister or my mother. He was careful though, careful enough that I never saw bruise or heard either of them cry. It wasn't until I had just turned seventeen when I saw it happen. It flipped a switch in me that I never knew I had.

 

I had freaked at the time, I'm not sure what happened. It had been winter I think? Or maybe early spring, I know it was just before I finished my final year of high school. I only knew that I wanted to inflict the pain on him that I knew he made my family suffer with. For every time my sister had cried I hit him, for every time my strong mother would shy away I kicked him. For every put down, and sly jab I had not noticed I took it out with bruises marked on his skin.

 

I don't remember much of what happened after. There was crying from my sister, I think my mom called my grandmother. I did know that I wouldn't be staying. I knew that I'd have to leave, if I had this kind of anger within me. I'd end up the same as my father. I could only hurt the ones I love.

 

My mother, bless her. Is a wonderful woman, she took me into her arms, her body so much smaller than my own. She whispered into my hair, that she'd take care of me, and she's so proud to have me as her son. She somehow took care of everything, and I left to join the military for two years, before coming back to move into another small town and settled down as a police officer. I still have to this day haven't seen my mother in person, for fear that I'd end up like that man I had known to be my father.

 

We still talked though, because she was still my mother, and I loved her. My sister and I were not as close but we keep in touch. I had a closer relationship to my grandmother now than ever. The woman had visited me when I had come back after a short two years of service. She patted me on the back and cooked for me. Told me she was proud of me, of the man I became. She hugged me, and I found myself crying on her shoulder, even though I towered over her by nearly two feet. My grandmother was a rock, a rock then that supported me as I cried for the first time since I was sixteen. While I have yet to visit my mother in person I have a standing date with my grandmother once a month for tea.

 

My sister and I were facebook friends, and I called her for her birthday and holidays. I knew she was happily married and had a ridiculously cute little boy with another on the way. But I hadn't made an effort to see her or my nephew and their little family. She was the one that had greeted me when I came back from my tour but there was always our past being held above my head. We never talked about it, and I didn't know just how much she knew about our father's death or how she had felt about it. I was scared to find out actually.

 

My mother and I had interacted more. Though I refused to come visit her, her living just a town away from my grandmother, she respected that. She didn't expect much of me, I called, I sent cards, and gifts told her I loved her. It was as if I just happened to live at the other end of the world. I love her and there wasn't anything that I wouldn’t do for my family. Anything, I hadn't already done for my family. As much as she knew that, she also knew how scared of them I had become. She understood that I was afraid of my rage and my anger. Afraid I could turn on them, she never once believed it herself from what she told me, but I couldn't be trusted with people I love. I was too much like my father, in looks and in outgoing personality, and I had already proven that I couldn't keep my anger in check. It was better to stay secluded in my little cabin and take out my aggression by chopping wood. And stopping bad guys.

 

* * *

 

 

_September 17th_

_First of all did I want to take math? No. I thought I escaped that years ago, in high school. When I had to take summer school due to my teacher and I not seeing eye to eye. But apparently it was a mandatory class for criminology. I didn't know why nor did I care, that being said, the only saving grace of the class was it was the only class as Lydia. If it wasn't for her I'd definitely be pulling my hair out, and possible failing. It's a not that I don't understand it. I'm a fucking genius. What I didn't understand was anything that came out of the professor's mouth. Which leads me to more about my six merry professors._

_Uh uh!_

_Welcome to first of the three worst fucking people I've ever met. Well great professors; horrible real life soul crushing human beings. Uh uh, was an old dirty creepy man. He made life way harder than it should be. Between actually teaching his class. And propositioning the other half he was my least favourite teacher and human being. The less I write about him the better. There are things that I wished he'd do. Like drop dead but eh, what can you do? He's horrid._

_His only saving grace is that he's a good teacher, with an interesting subject. I didn't really appreciate that he always gives us the worst final projects. In first year when I had him, I spent the last two weeks before finals crying over my desk at his ridiculously hard research project. I did manage a high grade but even to this day I don't think it was worth it. Next week he is already going to be giving us our final projects. The project that is going to be worth 50 percent of our yearly grade. No pressure at all. He hadn't told us what it's going to be on but since it's "Enter the Mind of a Criminal" Class I'm going to assume it's something to do with criminals, and maybe, just maybe about their minds. But enough about this dumb project I need to stop talking about him yesterday. The end. Next_

_Cicero. Welcome to stats 202. Aka HELL. Seriously if math wasn't hard enough let's add research and human error to it. This professor spoke English, I'm sure they did or they wouldn't be teaching at a predominantly English speaking school. So why was it that I couldn't understand a word out of his mouth? I'm not even sure he had an accent I just believed full that math was a language of it's own that I never bothered to learn._

_Like what the hell was frequency distribution, and why do I need to know about the coefficient of determination? I hated it. I can see kind of a little of why I would need math for my career path. But I was thinking bout like adding and subtraction. If there's more you should probably just leave to find an adult._

_Besides teaching in a language I was never taught to speak. He’s also always late. One a scale of one to late, the needle points to always. The amount of times we all held our breathes hoping he wouldn't show up and we'd get to call it and go home. He'd show up with one minute to spare and Starbucks._

_Lipschitz, oh man what can I saw about Lipschitz. Besides everything. Lipschitz is the reason little kids cry at night. He's a complete monster. And he's also a complete pyscho, or at least the closet one can be while still being a certified shrink (Minus Uh Oh, who also somehow had a phd in psychology and sociology). He had a really strange way of explaining anything. He'd give you the answer before asking the question. Which made no sense when talking about the human mind. Which may have been his damn point but I don't even appreciate it a little bit._

_He was a bald man who shaved his head to fix it. He’s beard was large and excessively tamed. He was left handed but wrote quick notes with his right hand before complaining he couldn't read anything. He would assign readings for the week and then ignore them the following class. I had had him for a first year class that I passed with soaring colours as our final project had been on a mental health and I was a walking billboard, or at least that's what the many diagnostics from my psychologist led me to believe. Now though I couldn't B.S my way through. I didn't know much about murders at least nothing that wouldn't take a few sleepless nights on the internet. That was time I currently didn't have. Especially with my dad coming._

_AND I'm tots done talking about my teachers because I forgot about this and it's vastly more important. My dad is coming to visit, or rather to sort out the mess that is my life._

_Sometimes kids just need their daddy. Even if I was nearly twenty already and haven't lived with my parents for years. I needed an adult to deal with the paper work of two dead semi legal guardians. To deal with their stuff and what was left over in the house. I knew that if I currently tried to deal with any of that myself I'd end up either burrowed in a pile of guilt and responsibility, or a crying mess. Neither were favourable outcomes. And neither were things I'd want to tell my psychologist that I did. They were already going to have a field day over the amount of sessions I would need for this current cluster fuck of more dead relatives._

_Anyway it's time that I go out and actually have some fun! Will update when I'm back from drinking copious amounts of alcohol and making bad life choices_

_~LittleRed_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story has barely begun so I hope you in for a very long ride.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments are wanted the good the bad the ugly.


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